Everlasting 2 (Draco Malfoy x Reader)

Not Over

The living world was much colder than where you had been seconds ago. Not only in the atmosphere, but it was also physically colder. The sun was no longer above your face, and nature was no longer dancing and singing to you. Where were you, really? Who were you, really? Was all that a dream? How long had passed? What had happened? Everything was cold, dark, lonely, almost. That was until a pair of arms flung themselves around you.

"This is all I've craved," Draco cried out, embracing you tightly in his weak arms. He pressed so tightly, clutching onto you as though letting go would be to let go of you forever. He was afraid; there was no doubt about that. "To feel your heartbeat against my chest ... to hear you breath into my ear." He whispered, gently kissing the side of your head. "You're back, [F/n]. You came back to me. To us."

"Draco," Snape said calmly, "let her breath. Give her a moment. She has barely opened her eyes."

Sceptically, Draco understood, and consequently stepped away momentarily, moving away from the bed. You were left with the image with no one but Draco on one side of the bed staring at you, face and eyes covered in tears, and Snape on the other side of the bed, too staring at you, but only with one tear rolling down his cheek, and an expression of disbelief and relief.

"Welcome back, [F/n]." He said.

Moments passed, but you could not find the strength within yourself to open your mouth and speak. A part of you wanted to just lie back down and go back to sleep. That was just you being you - [F/n] Potter was always tired! You were left with the image of life again, staring back at Snape and Draco, gazing at them longingly and attempting to process everything that had happened. Seeing your mother and father - was that real? Was Harry real? Was Harry ... really gone? Perhaps it was but a dream. 

"Please ... say something, [F/n]." 

But what was this? What was this thing in your hand? It was cold, and it appeared to be metal. You slowly rose your hand, noticing that you held it shut. Gazing at it for some more moments, you pondered deeply. 

"I think she's fully lost her mind," Snape whispered.

You felt yourself roll your eyes and scoff internally, but your physical body remained in a state of shock that you could not express it. You continued to stare at your hand, therefore, breathing intently. There could be ... something ... in it. Something beautiful. Or it could simply be a piece of rock. And when you would open it, you knew that there was a chance that you never spoke with your mother, or your father, or Harry. It was but a dream, and you remained family-less, with no one really speaking to you or supporting you. It was a truth you were scared of, and so it left you pondering over your hand for many moments. 

But soon, you finally opened your hand. Your palm opened like a flower blossoming in the middle of spring. And in that soft palm of yours, you found a silver locket staring back at yourself. 

It was real.

It was all real.

You had spoken with your mother, and your father, and your brother. And you were with them together. And they had hugged you and kissed you. And they told you they loved you, they told you they were watching over you. That meant they could see you now, they could love you now, they could keep you safe now. It was not a dream. It was real.

"What's ... that?" Draco whispered to Snape. "That wasn't in her hand before." 

"I'm not sure. [F/n], are you alright to speak? Do you remember - "

"My mother," you said quickly, lifting your head up back to the two men standing over you. They paused and jumped back gently at your sudden, unusual response. "My mother, Snape."